


All Mine (England x Reader)

by katemoon



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Confessions, Declarations Of Love, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Lies, Love Confessions, Morning After, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:28:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23809876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katemoon/pseuds/katemoon
Summary: CAUTION: Contains France. You have been warned.A bad night of drinking leads to some bad decisions... and unexpected happy endings.
Relationships: England (Hetalia)/Reader, France (Hetalia)/Reader
Kudos: 18





	All Mine (England x Reader)

You threw back another shot of tequila and breathed out slowly, waiting for the burn to ease. You’d lost count of how many shots you’d done by now, but even though you’d forgotten the number of shots, the name of the bar you were in, and what time it was, you still couldn’t scrub away the image of Arthur staggering through the door to his apartment with some woman in a red top.  
  
Not that it mattered. You’d never said a word to him, and he had never given you any reason to believe you were more than a friend to him.  
  
But it still hurt.  
  
You wondered what it would take to get your mind off of the thought that it was some other woman and not you he was holding tonight.  
  
How many times had you tried to work up the courage to say something to him? Today had been no exception. You had planned to stop by his apartment to ask him out, but the sight of him with another woman had quickly put an end to any desire to do that. It was clear that he wasn’t thinking of you at all.  
  
When you asked the bartender for another drink, he suggested that he’d better call you a cab. Apparently you’d had more than you realized tonight. Sighing in defeat, you agreed to let the bartender call you a cab.  
  
When you climbed into the cab and the cabbie asked where to take you, you gave him your address. But as the car pulled away from the curb, a new idea set in. Half an idea, anyway. Why should you go home alone again tonight? Arthur certainly hadn’t.  
  
You knew you probably didn’t have much of a chance finding someone to go home with thanks to the drunken state you were in. There was only one person you knew in all your acquaintances who wouldn’t reject you in your current state. Some part of your brain told you it was the worst idea in the world, but you were drunk enough that you didn’t care what you might say or do. At least then you wouldn’t have to go home alone tonight.  
  
You told the driver the change of address and anxiously waited for a small eternity until the cab finally came to a stop in front of an apartment building.  
  
Something didn’t seem quite right about the place to you, but you tripped up the steps anyway to the front door and started hammering on it. You knew it would take a while, so you simply kept pounding on the door until presently it was flung open and a disgruntled man with tousled blond hair stood on the threshold.  
  
Your vision was so blurry at this point that you couldn’t see his face clearly, but you didn’t give him any time to react or say anything. Instead, you flung your arms around his neck and clumsily captured his mouth with your own. He was so surprised that he staggered backward a couple of steps. You didn’t loosen your hold on him.  
  
He seemed to recognize who you were, and presently he relaxed and folded his arms around you, gently pulling you inside and shutting the door behind you.

**********

  
You knew immediately that something was wrong when you awoke in the morning. For one thing, you didn’t have that big of a window in your bedroom. For another, you didn’t have this big of a bed. Most importantly, you didn’t normally wake up trapped under the dead weight of a snoozing Frenchman. You went rigid all over when you fully realized just where you were, and who it was lying half on top of you.  
  
_No. Way. No freaking way. There is absolutely NO WAY I would EVER be that drunk._ Your only consolation was that he was still wearing boxers and his shirt, and you were wearing _—oh, crap, these are HIS clothes!_  
  
You stared down at the blond head on your chest with wide eyes and felt yourself going pale in horror. Then flushing in embarrassment. Then darkening with rage. You must have woken him with your quickened breathing, because he stirred and turned his head up to look at you. “ _Bonjour, amor_ ,” he smiled sweetly, “’ow are you zis morning?”  
  
And then you did the absolute last thing that either you or Francis expected: you screamed.  
  
Francis was so startled by this that he pushed himself up in surprise. As soon as he did, you sprang away from the bed, clutching the too-long sleeves of your shirt to your mouth.  
  
Francis poorly disguised his obvious amusement with a mask of concern. “ _Cherie_ , whatevere is distressing you?”  
  
Your hands were shaking with rage and your face reddened as you spluttered, “You—you—” you couldn’t even think of a word rotten enough to call him, but you threw out everything you had anyway, “you _frog_! You stupid, wine-loving creep! I could kill you! Oooh!” You moaned in misery and turned to bolt from the room, but in the blink of an eye, Francis bounded around you and spread his arms, blocking your way. You jerked to a stop at the sight of his naked chest and squeaked.  
  
“You can’t possibly go anywhere dressed like zat!” He trapped you in his arms. “come back to bed wiz me, _amor_ ,” he murmured in your ear, “ze day ‘as not yet started.”  
  
You shoved against him in panic when he started kissing your neck. “G-get off! Let go of me you disgusting snail-slurper!” You finally succeeded in breaking out of his embrace, and you stumbled backward away from him. But he wasn’t discouraged, and he started taking slow steps toward you, smiling mischievously.  
  
“D-don’t even think about it, Francis!” you stammered, backing into the small table in the corner. He continued to stalk you. “ _Honhonhon_ , you certainly weren’t complaining last night, _Cherie._ ” He grinned, his hands poised to grab you again. You circled around the table, your heart pounding, “Francis, n-no, stop it. I know what it means when you’ve got that crazy look in your eye.” You suddenly snatched up one of the chairs from the table and held it out in front of you to keep him at bay. “S-stay away from me!”  
  
He stepped up to the chair, letting the legs of it press into his naked chest. “Come now, _mon amor_ , I sought we were finally past all of zis.”  
  
You blushed furiously. “I may not remember what happened last night, but it _certainly_ doesn’t change anything.”  
  
Francis took hold of the legs of the chair and started pushing you around the room. “Per’aps if you would like to try it again zis morning now zat you are sober, you might change your mind.”  
  
“I would rather be burned at the stake!” You shrieked, pushing back against the chair.  
  
“Is it because you did not enjoy yourself last night?”  
  
You felt like you were going to faint. Did that mean you really had—?  
  
“What—happened—last—night, _frog_?” You said, emphasizing each word.  
  
Francis chuckled, whipping the chair out of your grasp and smacking it down behind you, leaning in close to frighten you into sitting on it. “Passionate love-making, _mon cherie_ ,” he whispered with a smirk, inches from your face.  
  
You felt like you’d been sucker-punched in the stomach. All of the blood drained from your face, and for a moment you didn’t realize you’d stopped breathing.  
  
That’s when Francis lost it. He sat back on the floor and started hooting with laughter.  
  
“W-what is so funny?” You sputtered, staring stupidly at him.  
  
“ _Non, non_ , it is too good!” He ran a hand through his tousled hair and sighed when he could control his voice again. “Zere was no love-making, _Cherie_ , I only wanted to mess wiz you.”  
  
You gaped at him, overwhelmed with a mixture of relief and disbelief. Then you jumped up and shouted at him, “That is _not_ funny, Francis!”  
  
But he was laughing again.  
  
“Stop laughing, or I’ll rip up all of your _Guarrigue-Lefèvre_ shirts, starting with this one!” You held up the sleeve threateningly. This made a spark of terror cross his face. “ _Non_!” He jumped up, grabbing your hand to stop you. “Forgive me, _mon ami_ , I just could not resist teasing you.” He tilted his head. “But it should ‘ave been expected. Especially when you were ze one ‘ou showed up at my door in ze middle of ze night.”  
  
“I-I…” You stared down at your feet. “I did?” You looked up at him, “Why would I come to you?” _Why would I go to you instead of Arthur?_  
  
“Well, I do tend to ‘ave an intoxicating effect on pretty young girls.” He grinned at you. “And I suspect zat you ‘ave always secretly wanted me.”  
  
“I-I do not!”  
  
His eyes were glittering. “ _Honhon_! I sink you do! And I sink zat you meant you would razere be burned at ze stake zen be burning for me!”  
  
“What the bloody hell is going on here?”  
  
You looked up in horror to see Arthur standing in the doorway taking in the sight of you and Francis. Had it been anyone else standing there now, you might have been able to shake this whole situation off. But now your eyes blurred at the thought of what Arthur must think of you and you covered your mouth with the long sleeves as you stood and went to bolt from the room.  
  
You had intended to dash around Arthur, unable to bear the look in his eyes at seeing you like this in Francis’ room, wearing Francis’s clothing. Yet somehow Arthur easily caught your arm before you could escape past him and held you fast. “_______, what’s going on? What did Frog-Face do?” You could hear the suspicion in his voice. You ripped your arm out of his grasp and ran down the hall, tears running down your face as you blindly made your way.  
  
You could hear the Frenchman and the Brit shouting at each other behind you, and you knew that you ought to go back and break up the fight, but you couldn’t. You had been to Francis’ house enough in the past to know where the guestroom was, and you shoved your way through the door when you came to it and flung yourself onto the floor behind the bed.  
  
You hugged your face into your knees and sniffed, wiping your eyes on Francis’ shirt and silently cursing him. But hardly a minute after you had found your way into the room, you heard a familiar voice call out in the hallway, “_______?” and then the sound of someone stepping into the room. You didn’t move. Who knew what he thought? Dressed the way you were, you could hardly blame him. You sensed him as he came around the bed and found you curled up pathetically on the floor.  
  
You waited for him to ask you what the bloody hell you were doing here at Francis’ house wearing his clothes, or didn’t you have any self-respect? or something along those lines, but he didn’t. Instead, he silently took a seat next to you on the floor, leaning back against the bed and sighing, silently holding out a handkerchief to you.  
  
“Francis says nothing happened, but I’m not inclined to believe him. Do you want to talk about it?”  
  
You turned down the handkerchief and instead wiped your eyes on your sleeve. “It’s true. Nothing happened.”  
  
“Then what were you doing in his room? And why are you wearing his clothes?”  
  
“How should I know?” you snapped. “It’s Francis’ house, isn’t it?” And when you saw the raised eyebrow from Arthur, you turned away from him. “All I know is that I went out for a drink last night, and when I woke up this morning…” you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye and hesitated. When he didn’t say anything, you said, “Look, I woke up in his bed wearing his clothes, and I didn’t know what to think. For a minute I thought I had been so drunk that…but I wasn’t. Nothing happened, thank the gods.”  
  
“Well then, what’s the problem?” Arthur watched you carefully.  
  
You looked at him then, and barely perceptibly your eyes softened for a moment. “I care about what you think of me,” you murmured quietly, looking away again. “I care a lot, actually.”  
  
Arthur’s heart jumped slightly, but he said, “________, you know me well enough to know that I hold you in the highest regard.”  
  
You glanced at him from under your lashes. “Even when you think I’ve been sleeping with Francis?”  
  
The line of his jaw tightened and his eyes hardened. He couldn’t lie to you but telling the truth felt worse, and he couldn’t bring himself to speak.  
  
You saw his reaction, and you wanted so badly to believe that it was because he cared for you too that you made a decision. Impulsively, you suddenly leaned over and pressed a kiss to Arthur’s startled lips. Arthur was so surprised that he couldn’t even return the kiss, and instead just stared at you in shock when you broke away.  
  
When he didn’t say anything, you suddenly felt the sick feeling of dread that you had been wrong and wanted to run from the room again. You started to get up to do just that, but in a flash, Arthur had hold of your wrist and he had dragged you back down and was kissing you again.  
  
He was so tender with you and kissed you so gently you feared you might melt. After a few moments, he pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around you with a sigh. “Oh, _______. I wish I’d known ages ago.”  
  
You furrowed your brow. “What do you mean?” You pushed away from him so you could see his face. His eyes watched yours uncertainly. It felt strange to admit to things he’d kept buried for so long, and even though it was out in the open now, it embarrassed him a little to admit how long he’d felt this way for you.  
  
As you watched him struggle for words, you wondered suddenly if he already had someone else in his life. You pulled away from him a little more, your heart sinking. “Is there someone else?”  
  
His eyes traced your features, and he reached to brush your hair away from your face. “Just you. It’s always been you.”  
  
You narrowed your eyes and looked away.  
  
Arthur was confused by your reaction and wondered if there was something wrong with what he’d said. “What is it?”  
  
You looked up at him warily, trying to keep your voice neutral, “What about the other women?”  
  
Arthur sighed and leaned his head back against the bed. “Ah... that.”  
  
You waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. After several long moments, you stood to leave. You’d heard enough. Before you could reach the door, Arthur scrambled to his feet. “Wait.” He dashed across the room. “Wait, ________, wait!”  
  
He grabbed your arm to stop you and turned you around to look at him. You waited warily for his explanation. You could feel the throbbing of his pulse in his hand where he grasped you by the wrist. Breathing hard, he spilled out his clumsy explanation, “I don’t know what else I can say to you, _________. I was trying to distract myself.”  
  
“From _what_?” You yanked your arm out of his grasp and turned to face him fully.  
  
Arthur huffed and then thrust out his hands. “From _you_!”  
  
You blinked. “Me?”  
  
“Yes, you! Do you have any idea how impossible you are to get out of my head? Your voice, your face, your touch...” he set his hands on your waist and drew you closer, lowering his face to your neck, “...your smell...”  
  
Now your heart was pounding as well as you caught his own scent with his breath on your neck. He didn’t wear cologne, but you’d always liked his smell. He smelled like laundry detergent and books and whatever he happened to have been drinking; today it was tea.  
  
You turned your face toward him and he raised his head to meet your eyes. And suddenly none of it seemed to matter anymore. You leaned in and kissed him again, and this time he enveloped you in his arms.  
  
After several kisses, you pulled away and giggled. Arthur smiled and kissed the tip of your nose, your cheek, behind your ear, and then he drew you closer and rested his cheek on your head. You knotted your fingers in his shirt and closed your eyes, listening to the quickened pace of his heartbeat. After a few moments of silence, you smiled and asked, “So, ages ago, huh?”  
  
Arthur chuckled but made no comment.  
  
You continued anyway, "Exactly how long ago is 'ages' ago?"  
  
Arthur pushed you away slightly. "No," he chuckled, "I'd like to preserve what small shred of pride I've got left. Now get dressed, we've wasted enough time." He turned and led you from the room by the hand. "Where exactly are your clothes, dare I ask?"  
  
You stumbled after him, laughing a little. "Your guess is as good as mine. Anyway, isn't it the man's goal to get the woman _out_ of her clothes after a confession like that?"  
  
Arthur stopped in the middle of the hall and spun you back into his arms. "Oh, _well._ " He kissed you more aggressively this time, making your toes curl. "I think there'll be plenty of time for me to do _that_ later. Tonight, at last, it will be you and I together. But today," he traced his fingers around your face before taking your hand and leading you away again, "today, I want to show the whole world that you are all mine."


End file.
